A Box Of Broken Promises
by TheseStories
Summary: UKfem!US. Human AU WWII. Arthur Kirkland is drafted off to war as a pilot for the British Air Force, leaving Emily F Jones to herself in London. After a couple months, she receives a heartbreaking telegram. This is the story of how Emily carries on in the present, and what happened to Arthur in the past ((Rated T for language and mild violence. Might go up to M later.))
1. Chapter 1 - The Telegram

It is never a man's wish to leave his own family when they need his most. But when his country calls for him, he really doesn't have much of a choice. Being drafted off to the middle of occupied France probably didn't make it any easier. But he was a skilled pilot in the fleet that needed him most. His family, of course, was appalled at the idea. They vehemently opposed the idea. But he knew that it was his duty to fight for his country to protect the ones he loves.

* * *

It had been a couple months since he left. She was already frantically listening to the reports on the radio about what was going on out there. She had heard so many names said either missing in action or killed in action. She even heard about quite a few Arthurs and every time she heard that name, time would stop until she heard the last name. Each and every time, it wasn't. It wasn't 'Kirkland' and she felt that she could relax for a while. She almost had a heart attack when one name was so similar to her lover's name.

It was hard on her to go to work everyday and carry on as if nothing was happening at all. She missed that smiling face that would greet her each and every time she came home. She missed those sparkling green eyes that she loved so much. That dashing smile, and the loving way he would speak to her. She wanted nothing more than for him to come home, safe and sound.

* * *

"Hey... Emmie?"

Madeline's voice was filled with concern.

Emily looked up at her sister, her eyes very dull and not their normal bright blue. "Huh? What is it Maddie?" she asked, placing the book she was reading down on the coffee table.

"You seem rather down," the quiet Canadian replied.

"Hahaha, what on Earth are you talking about Maddie?"

Madeline looked down at the floor. "You don't seem like your normal self," she said.

Emily smiled sadly. "I'm worried about him," she said. "I just miss him so much..." Madeline scooted over on the couch next to her sister.

"I know."

Emily glanced down at the floor bitterly. She was so worried about her lover it hurt to carry on. There was this emptiness in her heart and she felt that it couldn't be filled until he came home. In fact, living in London was hard enough. The air raid sirens were terrifying and it was just her all alone in that small apartment.

Madeline had flown in from Canada because she couldn't stand to see her little sister like this. She tried to convince Emily of coming back home to New York, but that never worked. Emily was just too stubborn. She wanted to wait for him. She wanted to see him come home. After all, they had a promise.

She glanced down at the small diamond ring that rested on her left ring finger. "He promised me that he'd come home to me... He promised..." she muttered.

Madeline heard the doorbell ring and Emily practically bolted for the door. She opened it and a postman stood outside with a grim expression. When Emily saw the yellow piece of paper in his hand, her heart sank. "No, please don't tell me," she said to the postman. He handed her the telegram and said solemnly in a think English accent, "I'm sorry Ms. Jones." Emily put her hands over he mouth before taking the telegram. "I'm sorry for your loss miss," the postman said, taking off his hat in respect. Emily closed the door slowly, still trying absorb what information she was given.

This telegram.

If anything, she hoped it was M.I.A. as opposed to K.I.A.

At least that way, he has some way of coming back to her.

"Emily? What's wrong?" Madeline asked as Emily half halfheartedly threw herself down on the couch.

"He's gone Maddie... He's gone," she muttered.

Madeline took the telegram from her sister and read it. "Mon dieu..." she muttered.

Emily couldn't help but cry.

Madeline dropped the telegram on the table, right side up. The letters **K.I.A **were almost like grenades sitting on the table.

* * *

A/N: Woohoo. Chapter 1! Okay, this'll probably be a multi chapter with about... 7 chapters? Just play it by ear i guess. This'll have LOADS of flashback between England and America. Hope you guys will like this... Even though there is character death... aha... Follow for the next chapter~ It'll be up soon~


	2. Chapter 2 - The Letter

A/N: Here's a flashback chapter~

* * *

_"Is it really okay for me to have this?" she asked. _

_"Of course, I did buy it for you after all," he said with a grin_

_"Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! She yelled with delight._

_He then got down on one knee and her eyes went wide. He held her left hand where a new diamond ring sat gingerly on her finger._

_"Will you marry me?"_

* * *

Arthur awoke to the annoying sound of smoke alarms. Someone burnt something or started a fire somewhere. There was always that one person who wanted to make things annoying for everyone else. He groaned and stuffed his face into the very flat pillow. That didn't really provide much sound insulation. "I hate it here,"

"I'm sure everyone hates it here too mon ami."

Arthur took the pillow off his face in surprise. "I wasn't aware I had company," he said, sitting up. "Oui, you do now," the other man in the room said. "Francis Bonnefoy. Pleasure to meet you..." he trailed off waiting to hear Arthur's name. "Arthur Kirkland," he said with a huff.

"You're quite the morning person," Francis said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Shut up," Arthur said, throwing the pillow at him.

"I'm only joking with you, you know," Francis said with a chuckle.

"Is it wrong for me that I just want to go home?" Arthur asked. Francis pursed his lips together for a moment in thought. "No? I'm sure everyone here wants to go home," he said. "I'm guessing you weren't fucking drafted?" Arthur retaliated. "Actually, considering that my country I'm from has been invaded, then yeah, I was drafted too," Francis replied, almost like he was actually attacking Arthur. "At least you're a pilot and not a foot soldier."

Arthur felt his fist curl up against the sheets in frustration. "The skies are just as bad as the ground. At least you know who your allies are," he said back. "All the planes look the same to you?" Francis asked. "Are you color blind?" he asked. "No, I'm not," Arthur answered, trying not to sound sarcastic. "They are all grey to me so... yeah..." he said, standing up.

"Understandable," Francis replied.

"Quite."

* * *

"Alright, well... I guess it can be done," Arthur said nervously, looking between a wrench and a plane engine.

"Great! Kirkland, we are counting on you!" the young mechanic said before running off.

"Dammit, I'm a pilot not an engineer," Arthur muttered, picking up the wrench. He looked down and saw a pair of work gloves. They were too big for him, but they would have to do. He didn't want to get oil on him.

"So you're fixing planes now?" a familiar sounding voice said from up above.

"Francis?" Arthur asked, looking up to see Francis sitting in the cockpit of a Lancaster. "I thought you were a foot soldier!"

"I am on most days," Francis replied climbing down from the tall airplane. "I was told to fix this up for you," he added tapping on the ladder he had climbed down.

"I'm piloting a Lancaster… You've got to be joking…" Arthur said, breathlessly. "I know you were flying spitfires," Francis said patting Arthur on the shoulder. "That engine there is for the plane, so fix it up well," he said pointing to it before going to climb the ladder again.

"Wait! I don't know how to fix an engine!" Arthur yelled, partly panicked and partly frustrated. "Are you serious now?" Francis asked, jumping off the ladder. He looked Arthur up and down.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm twenty," Arthur replied.

"You got a girlfriend?"

"Actually," he began. "I'm engaged." He began to feel rather homesick at the thought.

"Oooh, what does she look like?" Francis asked, rather curiously.

Arthur reached into his pocket for his wallet. He opened it up and pulled a photograph of her and him together and showed Francis. He smiled. "You've got great taste," he said with a chuckle. Arthur blushed and put the photo back in his wallet rather rushed. Francis couldn't help but chuckle. "You really love her, don't you?" he asked, taking the wrench from Arthur.

"Of course I do! The idea of coming home to see her is what gets me through everyday!" he exclaimed.

Francis sighed. "Alright, you've been here for about two weeks, why don't you write to her?" he asked taking the wrench from him. Arthur opened his mouth to try and say something but Francis just pointed at the exit. "I've got this. That little kid should've known you wouldn't know how to fix an engine, you weren't trained to do it,"

* * *

Arthur picked up a pen. He then put it back down on the desk. "What am I supposed to write?" he asked the lined paper that sat nicely on the mahogany desk. After a while of sitting there staring at the paper, he started to doodle with the pen. At the same time, he was wracking his brain as to what he was going to write. He drew out a couple of things that he thought were wise to write. He drew his plane and a foggy sky, and remembered how terrifying it was up there. He could barely see what was in front of his own face. He shuddered a little. "God, i don't want to go back up there..." he muttered, scratching out the plane.

He then doodled a picture of him and his fiance in a heart. All he could possibly draw were stick figures, but to Arthur, this meant the world. He missed her so dearly.

He then took out another piece of paper from the desk and began to write  
'To my dearest, Emily'

* * *

A/N: CHAPTER 2~ Okay... i know Fem!America's name is Amelia... but its really debatable between Emily AND Amelia. I just don't like the name Amelia for her, and i'm sorry. I just have had some really bad experiences with a few Amelias in the past. Surely you guys can understand.

Alrighty... It might be a little while before chapter three, but it would be like... a week or something. Nothing too extensive. I'm really enjoying writing this, and if my audience enjoys reading it, then i will be really quick to write more. Thank you~ Without you guys, I don't know what i would do~~

See you in the next chapter~


End file.
